Untamed. Crystal Jordan
a thief, the sister of a whore, and she had even more to gain than the normal socialites who scrabbled for his attention and cred account. No matter how true it was, it made his belly cramp. How desperate must her childhood have been growing up in the Vermilion? He swallowed hard and cleared his throat. “Prostitution is at least legal. You chose a life of crime.”
She snorted, pausing to finish chewing before she spoke. “Strange how that turned out, isn’t it?”
“Why?” Leaning back on his stool, he pushed his plate away and picked up what was left of his wine.
Her blond eyebrows lifted. “Why what?”
“Why would you choose to become a thief?” He sipped the sweet liquor, savoring the flavor.
A breathy laugh escaped her. “You know, no one has ever asked me that.”
“Not even your sister?”
She licked her lips, mimicking his pose as she sat back. “We have a mutual agreement not to ask about the dirty details of each other’s work.”
“I can understand that.” He coughed into his fist, fighting another smile. A jade and a thief—he could definitely appreciate the problems of full disclosure inherent in either of those professions.
She just smiled.
“You haven’t answered my question.” He arched a brow at her. “Why a thief?”
“I’m good at it.” Her narrow shoulder lifted in a shrug, which made her breasts sway, drawing his gaze like a targeting missile. “My nature makes it easy, my personality makes it fun. Isn’t that what I should look for in a good job?”
“It’s still illegal.”
Her gaze narrowed to green slits and her voice dropped to a purr. “Laws only matter to people who have the luxury of following them.”
“True.” He’d struck a sore point with her there, but it was hardly a false accusation. What she did was illegal. That would have to stop. He had no desire to deal with the legal entanglements of having a thief for his mate—and she would hardly be able to keep her face from the newsvids. He certainly couldn’t. Then again, he didn’t have to marry her to breed with her. With her family background, she might even prefer being his mistress. He’d have to think about it. He rubbed his free hand over his forehead. This mating business was far more complicated than he liked.
The silken edge to her tone sharpened. “So, you’ve never broken a single law?”
Tilting his head, he decided to see where she was going with this. “I try not to.”
“Only try?”
He shrugged and grinned. “I have a corporation to run. I do what I have to, and sometimes rules need to be bent.”
She huffed a breath and crossed her arms over her breasts. “You’re as bad as I am, Mr. It’s Illegal.”
Lifting his hands to ward her off, he chuckled. “That wasn’t a condemnation, just an observation.”
“Hmmph.” She recrossed her legs in the other direction, and the soft brush of her thighs against each other reached his ears. He’d rather those thighs were brushing against his. “Well, then…I think that’s enough serious conversation for the day, don’t you?” Her glass clinked against the countertop when she set it down and stood. A sensual little smile formed on her face as she moved toward him. The erection that hadn’t fully eased during their meal came roaring back, lust fisting in his belly. He set his feet flat on the floor, using them to swivel his stool so he faced her when she came around the counter.
He cupped her hips in his palms when she neared, pulling her between his knees. Her nipples rubbed against his chest, making his breath hiss between his teeth. The feel of her was amazing. He’d never known anything like it with any other woman. There hadn’t been a single moment since he met her that he hadn’t wanted her, the need always on the edges of his consciousness. Even in his sleep, even in the quiet moments after he’d just had her. The little smile that formed on her lips made his cock ache with the need to be inside her any way that he could. “Kiss me, kitte—”
Her mouth slanted over his, and he chuckled against her soft, soft lips. Her tongue thrust into his mouth boldly, demanding a response his body was more than eager to give. He jerked her closer until the hot, damp curls of her sex rubbed against his cock. He filled his palms with her ass, lifting her into his body. Their breath mingled as they panted, their heads tilting to change the angle of the kiss. Deus, he loved kissing her.
The scent of her intoxicated him, headier than the finest wine. Soon his home would smell of her…and him. Them. Together. The hawk rippled to the surface, its pleasure matching the man’s at the very idea. His fingers burrowed inward until he could touch her slick heat from behind. He loved how wet she was for him, how responsive. She rubbed her torso against him, catlike, and a shudder ran through him.
Pushing at his shoulders, she leaned back enough so that she could drop to her knees before him. The height of the stool was just right to leave her mouth level with his throbbing dick. Anticipation coursed through him at the wicked look of delight on her gamine features.
She flicked out her tongue to catch the pearly beads of fluid sliding down his dripping cock. His fingers slid through her short hair, cupping the back of her head to hold her close. “Take me in your mouth, kitten. Suck me.”
Slipping the head between her lips, she purred an agreement. Her eyes danced as the vibrations ran along the length of his cock. He choked off a groan. She took as much of him into her mouth as she could fit, sucking hard enough to make every muscle in his body jerk in response. “Delilah.”
Her fingers wrapped around the base and she moved to slide her tongue down the underside of his shaft. “I love the look on a man’s face when I suck his cock.”
He growled at the thought of her doing this to any other man but him. She wouldn’t ever again. She was his. Pure male possessiveness ran through him, something else that was so unlike anything he’d ever experienced before it made his hands shake. Any other woman was cut off before she started to cling, but any other woman wasn’t Delilah. His mate.
Pushing her back, he slid off the stool and dropped to his knees with her. “Lay back.”
She rolled to her back, propped herself on her elbows, and spread her legs for him. He lunged forward, bracing his arms on either side of her shoulders. The tip of his dick nudged at her slick labia, probing for entrance. She thrust her hips up, taking him in one hard push. A hiss escaped her, but she wrapped her legs tight around his waist. “Hurry.”
“Yes.” Thanking Deus she was so wet and ready for him, he rode her like a man possessed.
Mine. His mind growled the word, but he managed to keep it from passing his lips. She couldn’t know she was his mate yet. It was too soon. Too soon to tell her, too soon to feel this way, too soon to crave her like a bliss addict craved his drug. His body and his relentless instincts didn’t care what his mind knew. The word, the claiming, pounded through him as he pounded into her. Mine, mine, mine.
“Delilah,” he breathed.
An annoying chirp sounded over his head and the small vidscreen in his kitchen lit up. The smooth, electronic female voice announced, “Incoming vid. Downlink?”
He groaned, holding himself still inside Delilah’s tight sheath as he tried to catch his breath enough to speak, to think, to react calmly when the predator inside him wanted to shred anything that interrupted his time with his mate. “Deny vid.” The chirp sounded in recognition of his command. “Store any messages in vid cache and power down for—”
“Ignore the fucking vidscreen.” Fisting her fingers in his hair, Delilah pulled his head down to kiss her. She bit him and he tasted the coppery flavor of his own blood. Her tongue plunged into his mouth, desperate little moans vibrating under his lips. He loved the sounds she made, the way they made his heart pound and his blood roar in his ears.